


may

by _helios (neocitz)



Series: shitty superhero au [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gen, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 05:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11867538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neocitz/pseuds/_helios
Summary: It only takes a few hours for it to turn from a good night to the biggest shit show that Taeyong's ever seen.





	may

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prequel to _it's our overflowing confidence and instinct_. In Chapter 6 there's a mention of something big happening in May, and throughout the whole fic Taeyong talks about how great The Thief was, so this gives a bit of insight into those. 
> 
> This contains minor spoilers for a chapter (10) that hasn't yet been published at the time of this being posted. If you don't want the spoiler, chapter ten shouldn't be more than three days.

Taeyong combs his fingers through his hair, feeling the coarse dryness that betrayed how little care he had put into his hair since lifting it to the pure white he currently wore. It wasn’t long until his next break from the night time patrols. In a few days, he would have the time to put in a deep conditioning mask and watch a film, and _relax_.

Not that he hates patrolling or anything.

There’s something incredibly freeing about it all when you’re throwing yourself through the air, and having that moment of complete weightlessness before you’re about to land. Seoul at night is beautiful, and it’s even more so when Taeyong’s doing his job. And it doesn’t hurt that Taeyong knows that he’s doing _good_ when he goes out on patrol. Sure, he never really deals with the supervillains like the powered heroes do (apart from the occasional dog whisperer, where, _really_ , why would people use that power for evil?) but he does go up against some decent bad guys.

Taeyong’s chosen perch is on the top of a convenience store, looking over the twisting streets down a hill. He usually moves from building to building, but experience has taught him the better vantage points with decent food. He bought a drink and cheap, dry gimbap earlier, and chews slowly as he looks down at the dark streets.

‘Taeyong, are you there?’ Hansol’s voice crackles faintly through the earpiece hanging around Taeyong’s neck, and he plugs it into his ear. Through the headset, Hansol sounds a bit thin and distant, the tell-tale sign that Taeyong’s on speakerphone. He doesn’t speak, not until: ‘You’re on a private line.’

‘Hey, hyung,’ Taeyong murmurs, hoping that Hansol can hear him. They’ve yet to fully test the so-called new shipment of tech they’d inherited from EXO a few months ago. (Taeyong was personally suspicious that EXO had also inherited it from Super Junior, but who really knew? Hansol worked his magic on the tech as best he could.) ‘Anything I should know yet?’

Hansol hums in the negative, ‘Just checking in on you.’

Taeyong’s lips curl into a smile as he looks up at the night sky above him. It’s moments like these he loves, the lull between the adrenaline where he can talk to his friends. ‘I’m good, not much going on at my end. Stopped a mugging earlier, left the victim once the police turned up.’

‘Good,’ Hansol’s end has the sound of keys hitting, probably the older man logging in the incident in one of his databases or whatever he uses. Hansol has this incredibly detailed database that makes sense to absolutely no-one and is almost never accessed. Still, he likes using it.‘Have you seen anyone else tonight?’

‘Not yet.’

It’s not unusual for Taeyong to have no idea how many people are on patrol within their team alone, but there are definitely more tonight than a normal day. Mapo is large and Thursday nights are popular in the bad guy community, for some strange reason. No-one can ever say why, but Taeyong’s guesses that it’s because Thursdays are boring otherwise.

Even on other days, however, there doesn’t go a night where Taeyong doesn’t stumble upon someone else when on patrol, whether that be from his own team or another. Seoul’s got a ridiculously high density of superheroes, more than New York, and they tend to get on decently well, for the most part.

Recently though, he’s tried a bit harder to work on his own, or at least limit his partners. It’s not fun, when superheroes poke their noses into your life. And it’s worse when that superhero is ones of your closest friends.

Hansol hums again. It’s a quiet, kind sound that is always a comfort to Taeyong when he is working. Despite being the leader of their communications team, Hansol is not the most talkative and he communicates almost solely in hums and short sentences.  ‘I’ve got two others scheduled to patrol tonight, so you only need to stick to the areas around Mapo Bridge.’

‘Got it, thanks.’ Taeyong’s a bit far away from the river, probably crossing into someone else’s patrol for the night. He’ll have to move down south a little bit, but the trip wouldn’t take him too long. ‘… Hyung?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Is, Johnny on patrol tonight?’

Hansol exhales, a long and slow sound.

Taeyong thanks his friend quietly and with a small frown pressing his face down as he drops down to street level. Johnny is the hardest of his friends to evade, even with the tips and tricks that he had picked up over the years.

‘If it helps, I’ve assigned you guys as far away from each other as possible.’

‘It does,’ for now.

‘Taeyong-ah,’ Hansol’s voice is always low, but it’s tentative as he continues. Taeyong knows that Hansol prefers to keep the personal stuff out of patrol, prefers to say the words face to face where he can balance and assess what he says. It means a lot, that Hansol’s trying now.‘It’s going to be okay between you two again soon, don’t worry.’

‘… I hope so,’ Taeyong admits.

It’s been three months since things between them began to splinter, but Taeyong knows that three months isn’t much compared to seven years. Taeyong knows that their argument is one that they can easily get over and talk about. He knows that, even if it doesn’t seem that way all the time.

‘He wanted to be assigned as your partner, but I figured that he and the kid should have some time together.’

‘Thanks,’ Taeyong repeats for what feels like the umpteenth time so far.

He’s grateful to Hansol, always will be, for the understanding that he has for Taeyong’s feelings in the little mess that he caused himself. He’s probably one of the better ones when it comes to Taeyong and Johnny’s awkwardness. Yuta’s idea is to shove Taeyong and Johnny together as often as possible until they talk.

Taeyong isn’t as appreciative of this method.  

Thankfully, Johnny’s sidekick has a million questions ready at any one point and serves at the best distraction. So, whenever Yuta shoves Taeyong in one direction, he nudges Yeol back in the other direction.

‘That being said, if you guys need to cross paths tonight, I’m not going to stop it,’ Hansol warns.

‘Fair enough,’ Taeyong nods as he throws his rubbish into the bin just inside the convenience store. The poor office worker who’s picking out a late dinner jumps at Taeyong’s thin, activewear clad form, but the vested employee just gives a half wave from behind the counter.

He’s hoping that tonight is one of the lucky nights, where Taeyong and Johnny don’t go near each other, don’t spend more than a few minutes in each other’s presence. Don’t have enough time to talk about school and life. Because Taeyong doesn’t want to have this argument tonight.

Taeyong jogs away from the convenience store as Hansol clicks around looking for something that requires Taeyong’s help. He’s doing his best to stay off the main roads of Mapo, preferring the quieter side streets to the excited onlooker. It’s been so many years since he started this job, first darting through the streets of Gangnam (a bit more interesting on the superhero scale, most people agreed) and then moving around Seoul before settling down in the west.

As such, Taeyong has one of the best mental maps of the Seoul that he knows of. He doesn’t need any of those phone map apps that he knows a few superheros to use. Powers are great and all, but they’ve nothing on Taeyong’s mental map. In the nine years that he’s been a sidekick and vigilante, he’s never once gotten lost on his own.

(Unless he’s really drunk. No matter what, no matter where he tries to go, he always ends up at Paju when he’s wasted.)

Taeyong’s comms click on, a bit of static echoing in his ear, before Hansol speaks again. Taeyong feels his toes curl in anticipation.

‘Taeyong-ah, the art gallery on Dohwa 2-gil. It’s your best friend.’

 

 

It takes a good twenty minutes for Taeyong to make it to the gallery. It’s been a decent walk and train ride (with his mask stowed and hood pulled up to make him look more like an unapproachable youth than a broke superhero) since he set off. Nothing obvious gives away any sign of people having broken in, but that’s just a sign of skill.

He finds a window around the side, jammed open just enough that a person can slip through and Taeyong lifts himself through. He lands softly, sneakers cushioning his drop, and finds himself in some sort of back office. Nothing’s been disturbed, no files thrown around or dust shifted out of place. It’s as ordinary as an office can be, and chances are the owners won’t realise they’ve been robbed for days.

Taeyong steps out of the office and closes his eyes. There’s a low hum echoing through the building and he follows the sound through the dark corridors. It’s a pattern that they’ve worked on, albeit somewhat unconsciously, for as long as they’ve known each other, and soon he can see the bright light of a flashlight.

The Thief is removing a painting from its frame, singing under his breath. It’s not a song that Taeyong knows, which probably means that it’s a new release or a drama OST. Not for the first time, Taeyong thinks that The Thief has a nice voice and that he’s wasted in cat burglary. There is a small pile of rolled up paintings next to him, and he’s carefully removing another from the frame. Taeyong’s not sure how many more he’s got lined up.

‘I thought you said that you didn’t like the art in this place,’ Taeyong says, leaning against the doorway. The Thief doesn’t jump, just looks over his shoulder at Taeyong for a moment before turning back to the artwork in front of him. It’s probably a sign that they’re too close, but Taeyong’s beyond caring at this point. ‘Too abstract or something?’

‘Yeah,’ The Thief grunts as he drops the frame down. It’s an ugly thing, like the other ones that he’s cut the paintings from. Taeyong doesn’t know much about art but he can’t help but wonder why they put things that are supposed to be beautiful in things that are so boring an ugly. ‘I thought that as well, until I saw the stuff they have in storage.’

‘You know I can’t let you get away with taking these,’ Taeyong walks forward, unrolling one of the paintings that The Thief had removed from the frames all ready. It’s some sort of warped still life item. ‘This is still ugly as fuck.’

‘Goes for a clean fifty million won,’ The Thief shrugs. ‘I’m not too keen on them myself.’

Taeyong turns his head to the side, he’s heard that it’s a useful trick for interpreting art sometimes.  It still just looks like a bowl of bananas to him. Perhaps he should have gone into art instead of the coffee business. He’s fairly sure he saw something at a gallery once that was nothing more than a streak of paint on a piece of paper. Somehow it was worth millions.

‘Doesn’t work, I’ve already tried it,’ The Thief says with a grin that he flashes at Taeyong. It used to be disconcertingly warm, but Taeyong’s used to it after so long and he just returns a smile of his own. Sometimes, although he never says it aloud, he wonders what the smile would look like on a face, instead of hidden by a mask. ‘I think it’s supposed to represent inner torment or something.’

Taeyong rolls the painting back up and slips it back into the small pile that The Thief had set up. He shouldn’t be putting it back just yet, but he can’t be bothered unrolling them and trying to match them to their frames. There are about six all primed and ready for The Thief to bundle up in the little tube that students use to transport their artwork.

Taeyong doesn’t know how much money it’s worth, but the plastic little student painting holder can contain paintings that value at more than the cost of Taeyong’s entire building.

‘You’re not even going to pretend to stop, are you?’ Taeyong says as The Thief flicks through the paintings in storage.

‘Nope.’ The Thief turns to look at Taeyong, sweet smile pulling at his lips beneath his mask. Taeyong can’t help laughing, the loud, harsh sound that he always covers with his hand because it’s _embarrassing._

‘Do we have to do this every time?’ he asks, even though he doesn’t mind the argument between them. It’s almost like a script that they play off, reciting word for word to ensure that they meet the proper requirements of hero and (harmless) nemesis. ‘I mean, what’s so great about stealing art anyway?’

‘The money,’ The Thief shrugs, ‘the risk. It’s fun, you know?’ He pulls out another painting, inspecting it for a moment before pushing it back into storage. It hadn’t been hideous, but obviously didn’t have that pizzazz that The Thief was looking for. Instead, he chooses another ugly, dull thing and starts removing it from the frame.

Taeyong’s not sure about the whole mechanics of stealing art and removing it from the frames and how that affects the value, but The Thief seems to know what he’s doing. He’s debating on how he should talk The Thief out of this heist when the other man speaks up again.

‘I could ask the same of you, what’s so great about the whole vigilante thing?’

‘The money,’ Taeyong bites back before he lets out another sharp laugh. That was probably the best thing about it. ‘Nah, I like to help people,’ Taeyong says. He clears some space on the bench that The Thief is working on, and hops up on it. It places him higher up than The Thief and he looks across at the darkly clad man. ‘I’m making Seoul a bit safer.’

‘Sounds like an answer from a pamphlet,’ The Thief snorts, looking up at Taeyong. He kicks his feet back and forth lightly, taking the moments to relax as he sits there and shrugs.

‘It’s true though,’ there was no reward for being a vigilante or a hero, especially for the ones that were freelance like Taeyong was. You just did it because it was the right thing to do.

‘You’re a good person, Hana-ssi,’ The Thief shakes his head. ‘Better person than I’ll ever be.’

Taeyong can’t help it, reaching over to nudge The Thief lightly. ‘That’s not true.’

‘I’m literally stealing art, right in front of you.’

‘Yeah, but you’re not _hurting_ anybody.’ And although they never acknowledged it between them, Taeyong knows that The Thief only steals art from places that can afford it. It’s not an excuse, by any means, but it does show that The Thief has _some_ morals.

‘Awwwh,’ The Thief coos slightly, ‘I knew you liked me.’

‘No, I don’t,’ Taeyong mutters even as he bites back a little smile.

Taeyong knows that he should be better, should swoop in and stop The Thief before he can get any further. He shouldn’t be using this time like a break, but if he’s honest, The Thief is often the highlight of his night. They’re as close to friends as you can be, when you’re a vigilante and a thief.

And if he’s honest, The Thief is _his_.

None of the others have ever met The Thief, only heard of him from Taeyong’s debriefs (where he fudges the truth, just a little bit). The first few times Taeyong had turned up to various art galleries and jewellery stores that The Thief was robbing, it had been a coincidence. Taeyong was always the closest when Hansol put out the warning that a theft was going down.

As the months and years started to crawl by, however, Hansol started directing Taeyong to The Thief even if he was further away. It is one of the silent rules of their teams, Taeyong deals with The Thief, Johnny fights anything that could fly and Ten just likes to dick around with idiots who thought they could rob banks.

Taeyong doesn’t want to have to share this, the back and forth that he shares with The Thief. He doesn’t want something so relaxing, so enjoyable with the shitheads that he considers his friends.

‘I’m your _favourite_ ,’ The Thief continues, in a little sing-song voice as he looks back at Taeyong. He’s got the little black tube thing ready, which means that they’re nearing the end of the night. The Thief never attempts to steal more than a handful of paintings (which is more than he should, if Taeyong is honest) so their nights aren’t often long. It’s almost a disappointment that it’s almost over.

Taeyong hopes this will be a good night for him, and The Thief won’t be walking away with the paintings.

‘Nah, Daseot is,’ he lies. If Doyoung could hear him right now, he would be preening. But it gets the intended effect, The Thief gives a long exhale and a shake of his head. He’s not _really_ insulted by Taeyong, but he’s pretending to be.  

‘Are you saying that you would choose one of your team-mates over me?’

‘You mean someone I’ve known for five years and trust with my back over a thief who routinely spoils the endings of dramas for me?’

‘It’s not my fault you’re always behind, there’s only like twenty episodes per drama. It shouldn’t take you months to finish them. Most people take a couple of weeks, maximum.’

‘I work full time,’ Taeyong sniffs. ‘And I superhero on top of it.’

The Thief pauses, cocking his head, ‘I thought you said you were a student.’

Taeyong feels his cheeks pink, and hopes that The Thief can’t see it in the dim light. ‘Not anymore, I don’t.’

The Thief gives a sort of half-hum. In the effort to keep his real identity a secret from The Thief, Taeyong never gave away any sort of facts about what he does when he’s not wearing the mask. But years of a strange companionship does mean that The Thief was on the receiving end of some of Taeyong’s school-related anxiety.

(Taeyong’s fairly sure that by now, The Thief knows everything about his except his name.)

‘Kay, that’s cool.’

Taeyong knows that The Thief wouldn’t judge, knows that The Thief never put much weight on the education system in the first place. It was a conversation they’d had more than a few times, around talks about the best ramyeon flavour and what variety show was best to veg out to.

Taeyong’s lips twitch, just slightly. It’s nice to have someone say that, without the hesitation that gives away the lie. It’s nice to have someone who supports his decision to pull out, even though he doesn’t know the whole story.

It’s somehow a shame that a thief that Taeyong’s meant to be apprehending is more understanding than Johnny.

‘Seriously though, is being in a team _that great_?’ The Thief asks.

Taeyong pauses. He knows that The Thief has worked alone since he started, knows that he started out in petty theft and then started to build his way up to proper burglary as he got better at what he did. There’s no-one to back him up, no-one to talk to about his career, criminal as it is.

‘Yeah, it’s nice,’ he answers honestly. ‘We’ve been together for years now, and although our active members change, we’re there for each other. I wouldn’t be able to do this without them.’ He’s really glad that Hansol can’t record them unless they have their comms turned on, because undoubtedly that would be played back to him over and over again. Taeyong wouldn’t be able to deal with the shame of such sappiness.

‘It’s good that you’ve got someone covering your back,’ The Thief says. He doesn’t sound jealous, perhaps a bit wistful, and Taeyong smiles at him, just slightly.

‘I shouldn’t hope this, but one day it’ll happen.’

The Thief lets out a small laugh that’s amused at the start but still bitter at the end. ‘You’re cute when you say things like that.’

 Taeyong shakes his head, a small movement as he turns to the side again. Whatever side you choose of their fight, it can be a lonely one. Taeyong knows he’s lucky, in that he has a good, supportive team, but he also remembers those first months when he was on his own, breaking away from the persona of sidekick.

He wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

‘Hana-ssi,’ The Thief says, voice still quiet as they look at the paintings in front of them. ‘I’ve never said this, but thanks for being a good friend.’

 

 

Taeyong’s not sure if it’s a good thing or not, when he leaves the art gallery, that The Thief left three paintings behind. Taeyong wasn’t able to talk him into leaving all of them, but The Thief had agreed to Taeyong’s conditions and instead made a promise to see him again next time.

Taeyong hates and loves that there’s a potential next time, not that he would ever tell anyone.

‘Did you manage to stop him?’ Hansol asks, when Taeyong turns on his comms again.

‘Nope,’ he says as he moves across Mapo. ‘Got away with three paintings before I could stop him properly.’

If Taeyong had actually fought the other man, the savage punches and kicks that they had first engaged in all those months ago, then there was a chance that Taeyong could have gotten The Thief to leave far more behind. But over the months, the fights and the tauntings had first turned to banter which turned to actual conversation. Hansol didn’t know that

‘You tried your best.’

Taeyong feels a little bit of guilt at the back of his throat and in the pit of his stomach, but he also can’t bring himself to care too much. The Thief isn’t hurting anyone, isn’t ripping off small business owners that have put their last pennies into their art. He’s clever about his targets, and a little bit righteous about it.

It’s one of the reasons Taeyong likes him so much.

‘Where are you now?’ Hansol asks, as if he doesn’t have a tracker on Taeyong. ‘Do you think you can get to the river anytime soon?’

‘Why?’ Taeyong asks, adjusting his course to head down south.

‘Doyoung needs some help.’

 

 

The active line-up of heroes and vigilantes in their small groups changes every now and again, and at the moment there are only four of them that are active, excluding Johnny’s new sidekick. It’s a step down from the original seven, but Taeyong’s come to accept the fact that not everyone has that drive to prioritise their work all the time. 

Taeyong works well with everyone on the team. He practically grew up with Yuta and the two of them fight like an extension of the other (probably because Yuta’s powers allow him to be aware of _everything_ around him.) and even though he’s mad at him, Johnny has always been the perfect team player.

But Doyoung is Taeyong’s perfect partner. They’re the only non-powered ones on the entire team, have always been the non-powered ones. Taeyong relies on his speed and agility, whilst Doyoung has perfect aim and surprisingly good skills with knives. They’re used to fighting side by side because they have to cover each other’s backs more so than the others.

And they’re the only ones who were friends _before_ they were co-vigilantes. They feel like friends who work together, not co-workers that became friends over several years. Taeyong’ll never tell him, but Doyoung’s got a special place in his heart.

Taeyong finds it easy, to bounce across buildings and land lightly next to Doyoung. He’s got a small grin on his face, and he’s itching for whatever fight it is that they’re going to go up against. He might like the casual conversation between himself and The Thief but there’s something fun about the chase. It’s a change of pace for the night, but Taeyong loves the idea of it.

‘Took your time,’ Doyoung says, through his broad, toothy grin. He, like Taeyong, wears a lot of dark colours when in uniform and it doesn’t suit him one bit. Doyoung’s almost been a bit more suited to brighter, lighter colours, but unfortunately white doesn’t roll too well when you’re trying to sneak up on someone.  

‘Sorry,’ Taeyong rolls his eyes, ‘I was busy.’

‘Too busy for me? I’m offended, hyung.’

‘Next time I’ll just pull out my jet and fly across Mapo, just for you.’

Doyoung shakes his head, small smile playing at the corners of his lips. He punches Taeyong on the shoulder, an affectionate tap before slinging his bow and quiver over his shoulders. He can’t have been waiting long, but he obviously got a bit comfortable while he waited for Taeyong to reach him.

‘You’re so _slow,_ hyung. This is why you weren’t allowed to be paired up with Ten.’

‘Shush you,’ Taeyong hisses, even though he knows it’s true. Ten’s not impatient but few people can keep up with him, and his superior speed. He’s gotten better, admittedly, since he decided to take a break from the whole superheroing thing. Something about having to act like a normal human as opposed to an enhanced one. ‘It’s not like you get paired with Ten either.’

Doyoung shrugs and laughs, the fucker.

Neither of them get particularly upset at the fact that they don’t have any super powers like their friends, but Doyoung’s always been a bit more relaxed about it. Perhaps it’s because what Doyoung lacks in power, he makes up with stunning aim, whilst Taeyong only has his wits to rely on.

‘It’s us against them powered ones,’ he slings an arm around Taeyong’s shoulders. Admittedly, it’s also been easier for Taeyong since Doyoung joined their little group. ‘We’re better than them anyway. What’s Johnny-hyung without his powers?’

‘An annoying parasite,’ they chorus.

It isn’t exactly true, he has a good heart and a good head, so even if Johnny’s powers vanished, he’d do his best to help them out. But they like to pretend that he would be awful without his powers. Just to watch him splutter and fail to defend himself. Johnny’s a good sport like that, most of the time.

It feels a bit nostalgic to be able to joke about Johnny, with the past few _months_ having felt stifled between the pair of them. Taeyong can’t remember the last time he properly made a joke about his friend without feeling that unease beneath his skin, like they’re not at the right place for it yet.

‘How are you with Johnny-hyung, anyway?’ Doyoung asks, as if he doesn’t know.

‘All right. He’s still mad at me,’ Taeyong admits. It’s more disappointed, which is worse. A few months ago, Taeyong would have been angry at Johnny for it, but not he’s merely resigned himself to it. ‘He’ll see sense.’

‘Eventually.’

‘Eventually,’ Taeyong agrees with a small bitter laugh. He’s not sure how long it will take, but it hopefully wouldn’t take too long. They’ve never fought for this long, not even about bigger things than this.

‘I just, well,’ Taeyong shrugs as they make his way around a small corner, ‘I suppose I can see what he’s upset about. It’s my choice if I go to university or not. I just don’t see why he thinks his opinion matters about this.’

‘Because it does, hyung,’ Doyoung says, voice soft and kind. ‘Even if you don’t want it to.’

Taeyong can’t disagree, and he coughs lightly. ‘Whatever, let’s go fight a bad guy.’

 

 

Doyoung decides, in a fit of being an _asshole_ , to not tell Taeyong what they were meeting up to fight up against. Taeyong had entertained the thought of a decently sized bank robbery, or perhaps a small mob meeting to terrify.

Instead, it’s nothing more than an angry man or something. It’s a man who looks a few years older than Taeyong, someone who should know better than to waste his life on trying to take over the world. It never works.

 The man isn’t dressed ostentatiously, which is always a nice change from the sort of bad guys that they’re used to. There had genuinely been a man who Taeyong fought against as a teenager who had dressed in a silver, reflective material like something from a low budget American sci-fi film. 

He’s wearing a button up shirt and pair of slacks, and could have looked like anyone who finished late at work that day or something similar. The only thing that gives away the fact that this man is dangerous is the wild eyes and snarling words that he’s spitting at those around him.

People are the dangerous ones, Taeyong’s learnt over the years, because they are the ones who have intent and emotions. Monsters, by comparison, never really have the same level of singlemindedness in their destruction.

‘He’s powered,’ Doyoung murmurs as they approach the man in front of them. ‘Doesn’t seem to be particularly strong, but he’s still a risk to the people who are out tonight.’

Taeyong nods, giving a low hum as he assesses who aren’t able to get away from the man. There are more people than he would like, at least seven who are blocked from the staircases that lead away from the river.

‘Does he have a target?’ Taeyong asks, readjusting his mask to make sure his face is covered.

‘Not sure,’ Doyoung admits. ‘But he’s already hurt a couple of people, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he has.’

He’s certainly focused, having not noticed Doyoung and Taeyong approaching from the side. Taeyong’s not sure what to expect when it’s a powered individual, but Hansol’s assessed the situation and deemed Taeyong and Doyoung are the appropriate response. He has to trust in that.

‘I’ll go in and try to calm him down. Cover me,’ Taeyong grins, small curl of his lips, before he heads down lower to where the man is standing.

He keeps his hands clasped together, hoping to come off as a bit more vulnerable than he actually is. Taeyong doesn’t make an intimidating figure, few heroes actually do, and it helps lower expectations when they have to fight.

‘Excuse me, sir?’ he calls, drawing the man’s attention away from the group of people in front of him.

Now that he’s closer, Taeyong can see that one person’s bleeding from a cut over their eye and another is clutching at their ankle. They’ve been thrown around a little bit, although Taeyong knows it’s a risk to not know how before approaching them.

‘Stay out of this, kid,’ the evil (?) office worker says with a snarl. His eyes are narrowed, pupils darting around but ultimately focussed on Taeyong. He’s angry, Taeyong can see that. He holds a hot and unsettled kind of anger, one that he’s barely restraining as he stands there. It’s not a fearful anger, which isn’t brilliant for Taeyong.

It means that the man can’t be talked down, that the feeling has been bubbling below the skin and it’s all consuming.

‘I’m afraid that, seeing as there are at least two people here who look injured, I need to step in before the situation escalates.’ Taeyong tries to keep his voice level; control the conversation, like he had been taught as a sidekick. The moment he let the man take the lead on the conversation would be the minute Taeyong loses any power he has in his situation.

‘This has nothing to do with you,’ the man spits.

‘What does it revolve around then?’ Taeyong asks, walking closer to the man. His eyes are fixed on the man, not daring to dart back over his shoulder to the group of civilians in case it brings attention back onto them.

‘That bastard fired me,’ the man snarls, ‘for no good reason. He ruined me, my reputation.’

Taeyong’s not sure which bastard it was that fired him, but whoever it is doesn’t seem to be brave enough to step forward and argue back. It’s probably for the best, because Taeyong’s not great at negotiation and he wouldn’t be able to convince them to have a civilised conversation.

‘And is this helping?’ Taeyong asks, hunching his shoulders slightly as he gets closer to the man. If he can get close enough, he can separate the man from the group and then calm him down enough to either get him to go home, or turn him over to the police.

‘Actually, yeah, it is,’ the man says.

Taeyong falters, he wasn’t exactly expecting that. He had more been hoping for a _no, not really_ more than anything else.

‘Are you sure? Because I think that a reasonable discussion tomorrow will be a much better choice than scaring them in public today.’

That’s what Johnny would say if he were in this situation, Taeyong’s pretty sure. He was always better at these kind of things, never actually needing to fly in using his powers to stop people. Taeyong just knocks them out before calling the police, most of the time.

‘You don’t fucking know kid, he ruined my _life!_ I won’t be able to get a job because of him.’

‘That sounds horrible, but I’m sure it’s not true. It can’t be worse than—’

‘I’ve a fucking criminal record because of him now,’ the man snarls, turning back to the group. They annoyingly, stupidly, ridiculously, hadn’t attempted to move the whole time that Taeyong had been talking to the angry man, and are again pinned under the angry glare.

One of them step forward, ‘Dae-won,’ his voice is trembling and he’s not looking at the man, D _ae-won_ , he’s looking at Taeyong over his shoulder. ‘There’s no way you could have stayed with the company.’

‘Shut up,’ he hisses and before Taeyong can stop him and draw his attention back, Dae-won flings an arm out. Taeyong hears a hiss of warning through his headset from Doyoung, but he’s too late.

It doesn’t hit, they’re too far away for that, but Taeyong sees what they needed two people for. A wave of water rises from the river, following the arc of Dae-won’s arm and sends him crashing to the ground.

Taeyong hisses, moving from his more vulnerable position of shoulders hunched and hands clasped in front of him into something tense and ready.

The wave of water rises again, ready propel the man who spoke up, and Taeyong rushes forward. Dae-won’s not expecting it, and he’s knocked to his feet as Taeyong collides into his centre.

‘MOVE,’ Doyoung yells more than anything as he jogs down to the bank, ready to draw an arrow if Taeyong needs it. Thankfully, they seem to get the message, but Taeyong can’t see much as the water slams into _him_ instead and he goes flying back.

Taeyong hopes that Doyoung contacted Hansol before he came running out, because there’s no way Taeyong’s going to be able to make the connection with the amount of rage that Dae-won is radiating in that moment.

‘Fucking heroes sticking their noses into other’s business,’ Dae-won hisses, and his hands curl into almost claws, tense and sharp in front of him. It’s with a quick twist of his hands that water flies out, in icy shards that cut against Taeyong’s skin as he rolls out of the way.

Doyoung’s pressed up behind a pillar, closer than he needs to be but eyes fixed on the man in front of them.

He’s terrifying when he’s serious.

‘Dae-won-ssi,’ Taeyong calls, looking up at the angry man, ‘please just stop what you’re doing and consider whether this is a good idea.’

Dae-won doesn’t respond, drawing the water back before whipping it out with a sharp flick of his hand.

Taeyong jumps out of the way, feeling an arrow fly just over his head from a cursing Doyoung. It flies true, and Dae-won lets out a yell that breaks halfway through the sound. He rips it out of his leg, which Taeyong knows from experience, does more damage than leaving it in the leg.

Dae-won bites off another curse, this time directing a wave of water at Doyoung. Taeyong’s not in the stream of water this time, and he realises the amount of power behind the water that Dae-won wields so easily. It’s enough to knock Doyoung off his feet, the younger hero tumbling do a stop, winded.

Taeyong rushes forward again, this time aiming lower as he swings his leg out. It hits Dae-won in the side, unbalancing the man long enough for Taeyong to spin in closer. Dae-won obviously never learnt how to fight, never learnt how to throw or take a punch.

He’s obviously relied on his powers to protect him for years.

A wave of water catches him, steadies him for a moment, and then it whips around in an attack on Taeyong. It drives him further and further back, until he’s in line with Doyoung and further away from Dae-won than before.

‘How the fuck are we going to stop him?’ Taeyong says to a panting Doyoung.

‘Usual stuff, tire him out and knock him out?’ Doyoung shrugs, eyes fixed on Dae-won. ‘Not much use from back here though.’

Taeyong steels himself, reading for another rush forward to try and get close enough to use his hand-to-hand skills. Doyoung draws another arrow, steadying his stance, and Taeyong knows that the pair of them can do this.

Rather than run right at him, Taeyong veers outwards and uses the low fence along the edge of the river to propel himself up a bit higher. He leaps over the path of the arrow, aimed low at Dae-won’s feet, and manages to throw the man off balance again in the moment the arrow explodes in a loud pop and burst of smoke.

The distraction allows Taeyong to follow with a flip that drives Dae-won onto his back.

‘Last chance, just stop,’ he reasons.

Dae-won stares up at Taeyong for a moment, a long and quiet moment before his lips curl into another snarl of denial.

‘Nice try, kid.’

He curls his hand into a fist and twists it outwards. Taeyong braces himself for the onslaught of water. It doesn’t hit, and Taeyong feels confused for a moment, before he _realises_.

‘DASEOT,’ he can barely get the word out before a wave, taller than Johnny and heavy with water, rushes out to sweep beneath Doyoung. Taeyong rushes forward, a step and a half before he realises he’s too late.

He’s swept, high into the air, and stays for a moment before the wall of water vanishes and splashes away in an instant. Taeyong watches, sick, as he crumples to the ground.

Doyoung’s body, normally large and confident, looks small and crumpled. He’s soaked through, and Taeyong can see the shakes of his body as he sucks in heavy breaths, the unnatural twist of his body.  

‘No,’ he whispers, turning back to Dae-won. All chance of letting the man quietly stop has erased from Taeyong’s mind and he moves forward to drive his fist into Dae-won’s stupid face and shut him up, stop him, punish him.

He doesn’t get close.

Dae-won’s smug and grinning through his pain. With another sweep of his hand, the wave of water that had thrown Doyoung around like a doll washes over Taeyong. Taeyong barely has a moment to process until he’s in the air.

‘Shouldn’t have interfered, kid,’ Dae-won wheezes. He’s holding Taeyong suspended in the air, bobbing up and down, waiting and waiting and Taeyong realises his mistake.

He assumed that Dae-won was irrational, acting on impulse and anger. But there was a tight control over his power, over his anger and over his actions.

Taeyong braces himself.

It’s not enough, he can feel the water shifting around him, and he can feel the _push_ of the water driving him back.

He doesn’t remember hitting the wall.

 

 

Taeyong wakes to dim, lamp light in the corner of a room. It’s not too strong that it hurts, but he screws his eyes back up to block up the light for a moment. There’s a throbbing at the base of his skull, between his eyes and, well, _everywhere_.

He’s not sure what he feels and what he doesn’t, just that it’s too much at once. Taeyong takes a breath, a long heavy one, before opening his eyes again with a low grown. There’s a person hunched over in a chair, half in shadows, and it would be scary if not for the _giant_ poster of SNSD’s Yoona fighting a kaiju from years ago.

‘Don’t tell me I’m in your bed,’ he groans, turning a head to the side.

‘You’re not in my bed,’ Johnny lies.

 ‘I hope you and Ten washed the sheets,’ Taeyong says, although he makes no attempt to move. ‘How long have I been out?’

‘A day,’ Johnny pulls his chair into the dim light.

His brown hair is lank and sits up at a funny angle, like he’s been running his hands through it over and over. It’s been a while since they’ve been this close to each other without careful words and lips pressed tight together.

‘Shit,’ Taeyong hisses, he pushes himself into a seated position. ‘Dons?’

‘Woke up earlier than you, but,’ Johnny inhales, slow and steady and it’s not a good sign. ‘He’s not looking good.’

‘What happened?’

‘Luckily Yuta was home when Doyoung warned you guys would need more backup, so he was already there when I managed to get over to the river. We’re not sure what happened between you getting knocked out and Yuta turning up, but that guy was practically out of it on the floor anyway, so we managed to get him away from the river and stick some suppression cuffs on him.’

Johnny’s voice is low and soothing, and Taeyong nods as he tries to match it up with a timeline. Yuta couldn’t have been more than a few minutes late if Dae-won hadn’t been able to get up from where Taeyong had left him.

‘After that?’

‘We got you guys back to mine, and managed to get in contact with Yixing-hyung, but by the time he got to Seoul, it was too late. I reckon it was probably four hours?’

Taeyong hisses. The longer between the injury and Yixing looking at it, the less effective his powers were. They took what they could get, especially since Yixing had absolutely no obligation to help them, but at the end of the day, they were _human_.

‘How long are we looking at?’ Taeyong asks.

‘For you? A month, maybe a bit less. Doyoung’s looking at more, what happened to him? Yixing says it’s almost like he fell out of a three-story building. He can’t remember.’

‘That’s pretty much what happened, he was lifted up about ten meters and dropped.’

Johnny looks sick. Taeyong feels sick.

‘Have you talked to him yet?’ Taeyong knows that the type of damage that Doyoung’s body’s gone through isn’t easy to recover from. What Taeyong’s gone through isn’t easy to recover from, and his was nowhere near as bad if his recovery time is less.

‘Yeah, he’s, all right,’ he’s probably not, and if Taeyong was able to move more than an inch, he’d be hobbling over to Doyoung. ‘He won’t be able to walk much until his leg heals, and even then, it’ll be months of rehab. It’s more his arm that he’s worried about, he broke it.’

‘So, he’s out of the game,’ Taeyong breathes.

Johnny nods.

Johnny and Yuta can cover them for a month, especially if Ten comes back to fill the gaps in the team, but even when Taeyong returns it’s going to be tight. They’re not a group that recruits, and they’re not particularly large in the first place. But they’ll work it out, he knows they will.

At least, out of all them, Doyoung had the most secure backup plan. He’s completed his apprenticeship as a patisserie chef, and although he never took Taeil up on it, he’s had a job waiting for him at the café since they opened.

But Taeyong knows it’s going to hurt, the moving past this.

‘You did good against the guy, Taeyong,’ Johnny murmurs. ‘We spoke to the boss after, turns out he had been using his powers to threaten the interns at his company, practically drown them when no-one was looking.’

‘Why didn’t he get arrested?’

‘Not enough evidence, just got charged for the verbal threats. But he’s publicly used his powers to harm now, so it’s unavoidable.’

Taeyong hopes that he rots, the man had used his powers to drive that anger and abuse others. It was always people that were the worst, misguided by emotions and power that should be directed to better means.

‘I better not need to go in to testify,’ Taeyong says with a bitter laugh even though he knows he’ll have to. It’s an inevitable, but tiresome, part of the job.

‘You’ll have the time to.’

He had hoped, he realises as Johnny says it, somewhat futilely that this would somehow snap Johnny into some sort of acceptance. That the life or death aspect of their job would cause Johnny to see things through a different eye and just be a bit more accepting.

But he isn’t.

‘You know that’s not true,’ Taeyong says quietly.

‘Taeyong…’

‘Just,’ he raises a hand, cutting Johnny off with as much a glare as he can. ‘I’ve been thrown around by fucking _water_ , Johnny. I can barely move, my ears are _still_ ringing, and you’re trying to shit on me for deciding to drop out of uni. I did that three months ago, there’s nothing you can do to change it.’

Johnny’s lips are pressed together in a tight line.

‘If you’re going to try and talk me into going back to uni, just go, Johnny.’

‘It’s because I care about you.’

Taeyong groans, tipping his head back. ‘I _know_ that, but I’m twenty-three years old, Johnny. I can make my own choices, and I know what I’m doing when I make them.’

It sucks, that Taeyong’s trapped in a bed, can’t storm off into the safety of his own apartment. He knows that Johnny’s not doing it deliberately, that every small thing between them can be twisted into _Taeyong’s given up_ in Johnny’s eyes, but he hates it into the depths of his soul.

‘Fine,’ Johnny says, voice tight and low. ‘I don’t have to like it, but what’s done is done. The fact you’re alive is more important than university.’

 Taeyong laughs, not exactly happy, but relieved.

That’s good enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> That's the prequel, I hope it was a bit interesting? It's probably a bit different to what people were expecting. I'm not sure if Doyoung and Ten being retired/hiatus-ed superheroes was obvious or not. 
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter 10 of _overflowing confidence_ should come out in the next few days, as mentioned above, and we should get back to our regular schedule of everyone being mean to Taeyong.


End file.
